


be merry

by halcyonskies



Series: 100Themes: Dean/Cas [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bullied Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hints of it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4922929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonskies/pseuds/halcyonskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He deserves better than this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	be merry

**Author's Note:**

> 100Themes Challenge - #49: Fiesta
> 
> i cheated on this one - it's almost 300 words more than it should be. i was on a roll, though, so i figured it was better to just finish than to scrap the idea for a new one. also, writing this one made me kind of sad, wow.

Muriel Shurley wasn’t often furious; it just wasn’t in her nature. Her friends knew her to be of a mild temperament, more inclined to calm advice and quiet kindness than any kind of excitability. She’d always been that way – and no one _liked_ to be angry, did they? But sometimes even she could scrounge up the fire within her, never more easily than when her child was in pain.

Castiel was her only child. Complications in his birth had meant she could try for no more, and as a result he became one of the most important things in her world. It was hard not to become overbearing, especially after her husband left the picture, but she always made sure he knew he was loved. He was sweet and curious and soft around the edges, and Muriel was determined that he would carry at least some of that into adulthood.

Moments like these didn’t help that cause.

Twenty. _Twenty_ other first-graders had been invited to Castiel’s party, and not a one had come. It was hard for Muriel to think the worst of people, but the start of the party had long come and gone, and there was no sign of any of Castiel’s classmates. The worst part of it, the thing that alternately ripped her heart into pieces and boiled her blood, was that her son didn’t even seem surprised. Disappointed, yes, and more than a little downtrodden, but not surprised. Even now he wasn’t waiting at the front window with his mother in anticipation of arriving guests, but sitting quietly at the kitchen table with his book.

Was it the folly of parenthood, forgetting how cruel children could be? Muriel had so long believed her son was the brightest spot in the world that she had blinded herself to the very real possibility that his own quiet nature might not endear him to his peers. When she had been a little girl, she had encountered much the same; she just couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it, that apparently Castiel had not one friend that might want to come to his _birthday party._

She abandoned her vigil at the window and went to Castiel, stroking a hand over his head. The cake and snacks that had been meant for an army of six and seven-year olds lay untouched on the kitchen table.

“Would you like a piece of cake, baby?” she asked, a small increment of relief breezing away some of the simmering rage when her son nodded eagerly. At least he was still excited for that.

Muriel had just retrieved a knife from the drawer when she heard it: _knock knock knock._

She looked over at Castiel, meeting her surprised expression with his own. Smiling, she set the knife down and hurried to the front door, heart pounding with hope. _Please, let it be one of his classmates. Let them be kind._

Behind the door stood a lovely woman and who Muriel assumed was her son. She couldn’t help grinning widely down at the little boy first, who didn’t look as if he’d been forced to come and who was clutching a poorly-wrapped package to his chest.

“Um, hello!” the blonde woman said, her own smile a little uncertain. “Are you Castiel Shurley’s mother?”

“Yes I am. Muriel.” She shook the woman’s hand. “Are you here for Castiel’s party?”

“Yes! Oh, thank goodness.” Seeing the confused expression on Muriel’s face, the woman added, “We’re new to this town. I’m afraid we ran a little late, and then we couldn’t find the right street.”

Relief made Muriel giddier than she might otherwise have been. “No problem, no problem at all! Here, come in.”

The woman introduced herself as Mary Winchester, and her son as Dean. Muriel showed the boy where to put his present, and then showed him to the kitchen, where Castiel sat in astonishment.

“Cas, Dean is here for your party!”

Oddly enough, her son seemed to know Dean well. For the first time all day, his face bloomed in delight. “Hello, Dean! I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Nah, we just got lost is all. What’re you doing?”

Dean clambered up on a chair beside Castiel, and Muriel left them to it. Still relieved beyond belief, she returned to the living room where Mary waited. The blonde woman was examining the room with interest.

“You’ve got a lovely home, Muriel.”

“Thank you, Mary. Would you like to sit for a while? As you can see, I don’t have a lot of entertaining to do at the moment.”

Mary did sit, and after a few minutes accepted the cup of coffee Muriel brought. They listened to the chatter of their sons in the next room, happy and childlike and bright. 


End file.
